


Raspberry Beret

by Quipxotic



Series: Mix Tapes: Prince [2]
Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Backstory, Dancing, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Inspired by Music, Inspired by Real Events, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:50:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6646219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quipxotic/pseuds/Quipxotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part two of my series of stories from various fandoms and inspired by Prince songs.  Joan Watson and Marcus Bell are working a case when Joan learns news that changes their plans for the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raspberry Beret

It was a typical Thursday. Joan was working at a crime scene with Marcus when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled off her gloves and moved over to the side, out of way, to check it. She had expected a text from Sherlock, but what she found instead was a news alert.

“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

“What?” Marcus asked, concerned. He walked over beside her and she showed him the alert.

_“Minneapolis, Minnesota: Police called to Paisley Park. Middled-aged man found unresponsive…”_

He looked back up at her, confused.

“Paisley Park. It’s Prince’s home,” she replied, scrolling through news sites to see if there was anything more specific being reported. 

Marcus raised his eyebrows at that. “Wow. Hope it’s not him. Mom used to play his music all the time when we were growing up. When Prince played Madison Square Garden in ’98, she scrapped together the money to go and insisted Andre come with her. Man, he complained about that. He was sixteen - you can imagine. But afterwards even he said it was the greatest show he’d ever seen.” He chuckled at the memory. “Not that he’d seen many back then.”

Joan gave up the search and sighed. “I used to listen to him in college. Emily and I would dance around our dorm rooms to “Raspberry Beret” at night when we were cramming for finals.”

Then there were the times Liam had sung his campy, a cappella versions of “Kiss” to her, complete with dance moves, just to make her laugh. It had worked almost every time. 

Or, more recently, curling up with Andrew to watch _Purple Rain_ on late night TV only to realize to her surprise that he knew the words to every song. And then there were all the Prince songs on her phone - an ongoing rotation of tunes that she listened to during her morning runs or late at night when she was winding down from a case. But she didn’t mention of any of that to Marcus. Instead, she put away her phone and they got back to the job at hand.

A few hours later she was coming out of an interrogation room with the Captain. By then, all the big news sites were reporting Prince’s death. Joan felt a surprisingly deep sadness at the news. Silly, she thought, to feel this way about someone she’d never met. And yet, there it was.

Marcus caught her eye across the squad room and waved for her to join him.

“They say people are gathering outside the Apollo Theater. Part memorial, part dance party,” he said, pulling on his jacket. “I’m heading out anyway, so Andre’s going to meet me there. Want to come?”

She should say no, she thought to herself. There were a million things she needed to be doing. “Yes,” she said finally. “If you don’t mind me coming along, I think I’d like that a lot.”

When they arrived at 125th street, music was blaring from a PA system. People stood huddled in groups hugging or dancing while clutching CDs or album covers. It was touching, but Joan felt uncomfortable - unsure if she wanted to join in or just stand in the background observing. Then the song changed to one she knew very well.

 _“I was working part time in a five-and-dime_  
_My boss was Mr. McGee_  
_He told me several times that he didn't like my kind_  
_'Cause I was a bit too leisurely”_

“They’re playing your song,” Marcus said, grinning at her. Then he noticed her awkward body language. He turned with his back to the crowd and held out a hand to her. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

Joan laughed. “No. Thanks, but I’m fine here.”

 _“Seems that I was busy doing something close to nothing_  
_But different than the day before_  
_That's when I saw her, ooh, I saw her_  
_She walked in through the out door, out door”_

“Come on,” Marcus urged. “You said you used to dance to this. So show me your moves.” He smiled impishly. “Unless you’re too old to remember them.”

“Old?” Joan said indignantly. She grabbed Marcus’s hand and pulled him into the crowd. “I’ll show you old.”

 _“She wore a raspberry beret_  
_The kind you find in a second hand store_  
_Raspberry beret_  
_And if it was warm she wouldn't wear much more...”_

And so they danced.


End file.
